dear _______,

I guess I just want you to know that I think about you a lot and that I miss you. We are friends, and I can tell that you do love me somehow and that you do care. But you are impenetrable as ever. I know you haven't told me all that there is. I don't think that people can care about each other this way and be satisfied to call it a friendship.

Despite this, I leave room for my own foolish misinterpretations.

I wish that you would call me like you used to and that I would call you. Of course, we don't do this anymore. The time between calls just may get longer from now on. But you know the reason we did that right? Because we both wanted something from the other. Before I said anything, it was great living in that ambiguity. There's no real pain there. In fact, it was teeming with expectation.

I still don't understand how my saying something made us both step back... like I broke that fragile cup and everything spilled all over so that there's nothing for us to share. Why couldn't that expectation just explode over us as happiness? Was I really that mistaken?

When you look at me now, it's all so comfortable, but sometimes, I think we're aware, at the same time, of what happened. When I talk to you, I forget it all. But I leave you and it's not at all the same.

Our friendship wasn't ever really a friendship. If you're honest, I know you'll see that. That's why I don't get it at all. You returned everything just as much as I did. I think we just did it at the wrong times.

But if someday you happen to look at me and see something new, don't hesitate to tell me. No matter what obstacle there appears to be, just say it and let me decide what to do with it.

Because the truth is that I love you. And I can't help but think that maybe that's what scares you...because you're afraid that you can hurt me more than anyone can.

But I do love you. And now I have to put that aside so that someone else can come in. So that maybe I can love someone else. So that I can find someone who's not afraid to hurt me...who can see that I'm stronger than I seem. Someone who isn't going to be afraid to risk it all and who, because he risks losing me entirely, I'll never lose.

Love,
_____

hot apple cider

...makes me happy and reminds me of being cozy indoors with snow outside.

It also reminds me of my ex, though I'm drinking a different brand right now. In my head I remember the feeling of the slight smile on my lips, seeing the red packaging, him handing it to me and looking at me with a smile.

I like that the memories no longer pain me.

mmmm...

tired and sleepy

I really wanted to post today, but I spent time searching to see whether my blog is still listed on Blogarama and Blogwise. Somehow, I'm no longer on Blogarama.

Oh well.

Been much better lately, having done the things I love to do. Little by little, it will all come together. Introducing the optimistic me! Yes, it still exists.

What I need to do is ensure that I am not consumed by work, however. I'm just pretty new at this job, so I'm always anxious to be doing the right thing and not making hasty decisions.

I've also come to the conclusion that creativity is as essential to me as the air I breathe. I'm happiest when I can spend time doing it. I'm happiest when there's an audience for it because it's really the only way I can shut self-consciousness off. It's as though through art's guise, I can be excused from any shortcomings as the process of its creation is forgiving. Audiences might not always be so kind, but I think that for anyone who believes in the necessity of errors in the search for the right expression, there's even something about the rawest piece that allows a glimpse into the artist.

So, I've resolved that if my introverted nature can only come out through art in one form or another, then I have to do it. It's part of what's been missing all these years, as self-absorption (though I can also see how the creative process can lead to this) and emotional chaos have taken over too much.

Oh look, I've posted anyway.

G'night.